


Happy Birthday, Baby

by DeepLittleSOB



Series: Lizzy-verse One-Offs [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Sex, F/M, Ghosts, Haunting, Hunters & Hunting, Tied-Up Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:56:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepLittleSOB/pseuds/DeepLittleSOB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dean's 30th birthday and Lizzy wants to make sure it's a memorable one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> There's no reason for this one-off other than... why the hell not! Enjoy!

* * *

"Happy birthday, baby," Lizzy whispers to him as they walk quietly down the old asylum's hallways, guns and flashlights drawn and bodies close to each other.

"Seriously?" Dean asks, checking his watch quickly to confirm that she was right. Two minutes past midnight.

"Yeah," she smiles, keeping her eyes on their surroundings while following him, needing to wish him the best for one more year even amid a hunt. "The big three-oh."

"Don't remind me, huh?" Dean complains heavily. He doesn't want to think about it. Thirty years old. He's fucking thirty years old and he's still hunting. No pride in that for him.

"But it's a big birthday!" Lizzy whispers right back, adjusting her hold on the sawed off in her hand as she lays the barrel across her forearm to steady it. "Thirty! That's cause to celebrate if you ask me."

"Why… 'cause I never thought I'd see it?"

"Ok, you morbid asshole, don't…"

"Shh," he tells her to quiet down and suddenly holds up his hand, stopping her in her tracks. Something fell up ahead. They both heard the unmistakable metal on concrete sound.

Motioning silently for her to follow him, Dean stalks down the long, crumbling hall, passing room after room of inpatient lodgings that have long since gone to lapsed decay.

Once they reach the end of the hallway where the sound emanated from, both enter the room and each take a side. Back to back they look around to keep each other protected, they find a bedpan on the floor, most likely the cause for the loud clattering they heard.

"Ok… no animals running around this floor," Dean mentions quietly as he fails to find evidence of any real-world creatures in the area. "So what made the sound?"

"Beats the fuck outta me," Lizzy responds as she can't find anything either.

Poking around a little more, they check every cabinet and drawer in the dilapidated room for anything they can find. Dean reaches the back corner of the room where there's a closet door. Grasping onto the knob, he quietly talks to whomever will listen.

"Oh please be a birthday stripper-gram."

He yanks the door open swiftly, the bottom of it scraping the floor loudly, and there it is.

"I'm the grand champion of hide and go seek," Dean announces in his regular volume as Lizzy looks over at him.

"Aw, fuck…" she says with sadness as she looks at his findings. "So the story is true?"

"Looks like it," Dean tells her, grabbing the cylindrical salt container from his outer jacket pocket.

"Fucking gross," she laments.

"Well, if the story is true then this D-bag totally deserved it," Dean tells her, assuming that the hung man is that of the local legend. The town claims that a homeless man would attack people who trespassed in the building once he squatted there and called it his home. After time it was rumored that some teens on a vengeance trip after the guy hurt one of their girlfriends found him, beat him, and hung him in the building. Now his ghost loved to fuck with people, continuing the legend.

"Yeah, that's true," Lizzy admits while pulling out the lighter fluid and her phone. Dean cuts down the half-decayed body and lets it drop into a heap on the floor. "So, how does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" he wonders to her, popping the salt container's top.

"Being old?" she smirks as he sprinkles salt over the body.

"I'm not old," he denies completely, giving her the evil eye.

"You're acting old," she says in an annoyed tone, hands on her hips.

"No, I'm doing my job," Dean corrects her with agitation.

"Well, after we're done with the job what would you like to do?" She tosses him the lighter fluid and he catches it. He flips to spout open.

"Probably drink until the night disappears into a wonderful, deep black out," he tells her with all honesty.

"What!?" she asks, texting Sam at the same time to let him know they found the body and they'll meet him at the car once the burn is done. "Lame!"

"L, I'm exhausted." Dean pauses and looks over at her with his tired eyes. "It's been fucking busy. I want honest to God sleep for my birthday. Simple as that."

"Shit, you actually _are_ old," she tells him while staring at her phone.

"Shut up," Dean grumbles.

Lizzy pockets her phone once she presses send. She watches as Dean lights up his Zippo and holds it to the edge of what's left of the clothing on the body. As it ignites she can see that he wasn't joking. He did look worn and a bit worse for the ware and it was his birthday after all. If he wants sleep, then he gets sleep.

"You seriously want to sleep for your birthday?" She walks up to stand next to him.

"Yes," he says, his tone sincere and beaten down.

"Well then once the flames go out I guess it's straight to bed for you  _young_  man," Lizzy pretends to scold as she brings her arms around his waist.

"Yes dear," he jokes back and sighs. He can't wait to sleep for as long as the day will let him.

* * *

 

Flames all out and spirit to rest, Dean and Lizzy head back down the hallway they came from.

"So the yearly apple pie will have to wait," Lizzy warns him as they head out to meet Sam at the Impala.

"What!?" Dean nearly shouts with disappointment.

"We don't have an oven in our motel," she reminds him with a shrug. "The second we do you'll be having an entire pie to yourself… that is unless you want my pie first?" She smiles slickly up to him.

"Tempting offer," he huffs right back, the hallway opening up into the larger, former exam room they walked through earlier. Dean keeps walking towards the stairwell that leads out but Lizzy stops him, pulling his arm back. He turns to look at her questioningly.

"No, I mean it," she tells him. "Birthday sex is the best part of birthdays."

"Sure is, and I fully plan on cashing in on my gift… tomorrow." Dean turns to leave once more and once more he gets pulled back to her.

"What the fuck, Dean?" she asks him, a hand already running along the bottom of his green army jacket, her finger skimming along his skin just above the waist of his jeans. "Where's your sense of fun, huh grandpa?"

Dean just lifts an eyebrow in question, his curiosity starting to trump his tired state of mind. "Ok, youngin'. What'd you have in mind?"

Her eyes light up briefly when she can see that fun guy, that younger and less world-worn guy, break through. She misses him sometimes. Dean used to be so easy and much more carefree. This whole heaven/hell thing has changed him completely. It's made him less fun, honestly. Luckily she still knows how to find that guy she remembers from when they first met every now and then. Right now, he's standing in front of her and damn it she couldn't be happier for that.

"Hmm," she grins wide. Looking around the room she gets inspired when she sees the old rolling medical stretcher by the dirty window that's opaque with age.

Without a word she keeps her grip on his hand and pulls him over to the bed.

"Get on," she says to him with a smile.

"Yeah?" he questions, surprised by her. The place was long abandoned and a mess and God only knows what could have happened on the disgusting stretcher. Luckily it's suspicious stain free when he observes it's state. Just normal wear and some dirt and dust.

"Oh," she starts, pulling on the collar of his shirt to get him to lean forward. "Yeah. I'm totally sure." She kisses him with full, nasty intentions and he gets the message loud and clear.

"Well fucking alright," he says loudly, jumping up a bit and sitting on the foot of the cot before scooting back. He lays back on the rolling bed, the wheels caked with rust so that it remains unmoving. The adjustable back propped up so that when he leans onto it he's still sitting up. "So what… you're my naughty nurse?" he flashes her his pearly whites in excitement while she flashes him her lust coated brown eyes with devious intent.

"Sure," she says in a low, sexy tone as she climbs up into the bed and crawls over his reclined form. "If that's what you want."

"Oh baby, I want," he confirms as he leans up a bit and kisses her. Her tongue immediately seeks his and she places the salt round loaded gun at his side on the bed.

"So does that mean you're my insane inmate?" she asks, her lips still just touching his as she asks.

"I'll be whatever the fuck you want me to be," he tells her, suddenly too turned on to care what role he has in the moment. She's being bold and he loves that side of her. And she's not just giving him a good time for his birthday. No. She's clearly doing this because more than anything she just really wants to. Pressing his lips her hers hungrily, he reaches up and places a hand to either side of her neck, his fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of her neck.

Kissing him back, her mouth distracting him well enough, she brings her hands to rest atop his. Slowly and without him realizing, she takes one hand off of her neck and lowers it to his side. It isn't until he feels the strap tighten hard around his wrist that he stops kissing her and lets the quick panic hit him.

"What're you doing?" he asks with some fear as Lizzy completely secures the leather strap restrain that's attached to the cot, buckling it in and keeping his arm in place.

"You've been a bad boy today, Dean," Lizzy explains with emphasis. "Very bad."

"Have I?" he asks, smile returning as she takes up his other wrist and places it into the restraint on the other side of the rolling cot.

"Yes you have," she reinforces as she sits atop his hips. "You seem to think your birthday isn't important."

Dean watches with awe, his heart pounding as she tightens the belt around his wrist. With both arms tied down, making him completely helpless and at her mercy, he finds himself excited, a little scared, and ultimately so turned on it shouldn't be possible.

Sitting tall and letting her fingertips travel up his chest under his shirt, she smiles to him that same sexy, slightly evil smile he loves to see on her.

"You're wrong." She dips her head down and runs her tongue over the shell of his ear, Dean's breath hitching instantly. She lets her voice come out in a rumbling growl. "Your birthday means a lot of things, all of them good."

She begins backing down to the end of the bed again, dropping onto her feet and standing between where his boot-clad feet hang off the edge.

"It means you're still alive and in our profession that's an accomplishment no matter how you slice it," she says to him, licking her lips as she reaches for the front of his pants. "It means you're a good hunter."

"The best, baby," he says cockily while watching her pop free the button on his jeans.

"It also means that you are entitled to a good day," Lizzy tells him as she lowers his zipper and grabs the sides of his pants. "Twenty-four hours of what you want and only things that make you happy."

"Is that so?" he questions, lifting his hips to help her slide his clothing down. As he springs free from his pants Lizzy looks him over while licking her lips once more.

"That's very so," she confirms, pulling a lace on each boot to untie them simultaneously. She begins yanking his right one off first. "It's shame you had to be so pessimistic before though."

"Why's that?" Dean wants to know as his first boot hits the floor with a thud.

"Because now I have to punish you a little," Lizzy winks as she takes off his other boot. It drops to the floor just like the first and Dean narrows his eyes at her.

"Hey, punishment for the birthday boy?" he says with faux disbelief. "How is that fair?"

To this Lizzy just laughs as she pulls all his clothing from the waist down off.  “Baby, I know you, ok?  You’re a fucking glutton for punishment in every sense of the word.  You’re fine with this.”

Quickly considering it, Dean makes a face and nods his agreement.  It was true.  Life truly had done that to him.

“So, because of your Debbie Downer outlook on this big, awesome day… you’re gonna stay strapped down.”  She smiles at him once more as she toes out of her boots and pulls off her jacket.  “You’ve lost your privilege of being able to touch me.”

Silently, Dean watches with driven want as she opens the buttons on the flannel shirt she stole from him that morning.  It was big on her but the way it hung on her frame, the buttons open up top and revealing just enough cleavage, he was never going to complain. The purple plaid looked better on her anyways and truthfully, the way she wore his clothes all day… kind of hot.

Lizzy reaches behind herself, unclasping her bra.  She then pulls the straps down through the rolled up sleeves of the shirt and slips it off, leaving her topless with his wide open shirt still on her shoulders.  She then quickly opens her old, holed up jeans and pushes them to the floor, stepping out of them.  She’s left in only her small black panties and his purple shirt.

“You gotta wear my clothes more often,” Dean lets her know as she crawls up the bed over his locked in place form, eyeing him like the predator she’s just become.

“I do look better in them than you do,” Lizzy jests, stopping when she’s halfway up his body, straddling his legs.

“Yes, you definitely do,” he confirms for her wholeheartedly.

“It’s a shame you can’t touch me though,” Lizzy patronizingly taunts, sitting up tall on her knees.  Her hands starting on her stomach, she drags them slowly, deliberately up her body, landing on her breasts.  “I love your hands on me.  Always feel so good.”  She pinches a nipple in each hand and moans with the feel.

“Would an ‘I’m sorry’ help?” Dean tries fruitlessly as he realizes how damn bad he does want to touch her himself.  

Biting her lower lip she shakes her head no.

“Damn it,” he laments, never letting his eyes leave her body. 

Lizzy lowers her right hand, fingers dancing across her stomach once more before teasingly dipping into her underwear.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean awes as he watches her, her hand clearly working herself over just under the thin fabric covering her.  He pulls at the restraints on sheer need and instinct, not actually expecting to be able to move them.

“You want it to be your hand on me, don’t you?” she asks, her voice sighing with what she does to herself.

“God yes,” he confirms, his eyes darting between her brown irises all lit up and her hand working on herself. 

She keeps one hand in her panties and grabs the edge of the bed next to his head with the other.  She leans forward and kisses him, her tongue sweeping across his once as she moans into his mouth before telling him, “Too bad.”

“Fuck,” Dean laments and celebrates at the very same time.  His opinion of everything teetering between loving what she’s doing to him and hating that he can’t grab her and do what he wants with her.

Backing down his body a little bit, Lizzy lowers her head and ghosts her mouth over his dick, a soft moan coming out and sending warm breath over him.

“Ah, baby please,” Dean half begs of her when he feels her tease him.

“Are you… begging?” she lifts her eyes to look at him with an amused look.

“If that’s what’ll get your mouth on my cock then hell yeah.  That’s absolutely what I’m doing.  I’m begging.” 

Lizzy laughs to herself with pride.  “Wow.  I really got you going, didn’t I?” she asks him, a hand to each of his thighs as she keeps her mouth just an inch or two above him.

“Yes.”  The answer is quick, wanting to move her along a little faster if possible.

Teasingly she open her moth in a smile but doesn’t lower herself.  “Tell me you love your birthday first.”  She winks at him.

“Yes, I love my birthday,” Dean rushed out.  “Best day of the year.  If there was a party hat here I’d be wearing it.”

Lizzy runs her hands along either side of his waiting member, so damn close but not yet touching him.  “I’m having way too much fun.”

And then she finally does it. 

“Oh yeah,” Dean sigh out in full relief when she runs her tongue from base to tip.  “Thank God.”

 Lizzy pauses and looks up at him playfully as she prepares to repeat something he’s said to her a few times.

“Just call me Lizzy, baby,” she grins out and takes him in her hand.  The delighted smile on his face with her words drops into a pleasure coated expression when he takes him into her mouth in one quick motion. 

“Oh shit,” Dean groans out, her tongue already setting to work on him as she bobs her head.  She held out as long as she could and now she’s making up for it all at once, working him over fast.  Head pressed into the back of the cot, Dean’s in his own personal heaven.  “Best fucking cock sucker ever, I swear.”

For the compliment, she takes him deep, his whole length on her mouth and partially down her throat.

The feeling nearly killing him, Dean moans out loudly knowing they’re alone in the building.  Sam’s just gonna have to wait by the car a little longer. 

Lizzy hums a bit as she slowly pulls back from him, her lips sealed around him and sucking him hard until she releases him with a slightly obscene pop.  Hissing through his teeth while watching her closely.

“Alright birthday boy,” she smiles up to him from her place.  “Up to you.  You gonna come in my mouth or my pussy?”

“Shit, I fucking love you, you know that?” he asks her, his voice hard and in total awe.

“I do know that.  How could you not?” she says with a shit eating grin.  “Now, what’ll it be?”

“Get your ass up here.”

Smiling wide, Lizzy loves his answer.  She would have happily, _very_ happily sucked him dry if that’s what he wanted but she’s glad he doesn’t.  Now she’s going to get a little bit out of this too.

Lizzy quickly gets rid of her panties and tosses them into the pile of clothing she’s created on the floor.  She moves up his body again.  With one knee on one side of his hips, her foot on the bed on the other side, she grabs him hard and holds him up, Dean staring up at her.

“You sure?” she teasingly pauses.

“L, you don’t sit on my fucking dick right now I swear I’m gonna die.”  He means it.

Loud sound of glee with his words, Lizzy lowers herself onto him.

“Oh, I wanted that so bad,” Dean tells her, eyes closed as he feels her warmth around her. 

Grabbing the top of the bed to either side of his head, Lizzy doesn’t wait long before she starts moving.  Rocking up and down on him, she lets her own voice fly.  As much as she knows she’s been building him up this whole time, she herself had grown far too needy. 

“Oh God,” Lizzy says, her eyes locking onto his as she smiles a bit, his shirt still framing her figure while keeping her naked body in view for him.  “How you liking your birthday so far, baby?”

“Fucking loving it,” he tells her leaning forward and kissing her as he groans loudly, her movements picking up pace and feeling even better.

As they keep going, both losing themselves further and further into each other, they don’t at first hear the slight movement out in the hallway they just came from.

“Fuck me, L,” Dean says to her, his lips still against hers. 

“You want it harder?” she asks, her hands now grasping the sides of his face.  Dean can only nod his answer as she moves faster, falling down on him over and over with more force than before.

Something rustles in the hallway again and this time they both hear it.  Lizzy freezes, holding her breath and pressing a hand over Dean’s mouth to keep him quiet.  They both strain to listen, hoping to catch whatever it was that made that sound.

“Oh shit,” Lizzy pants out, looking to him with wide eyes.  “What was that?”

Dean shrugs with her palm still pressed to his mouth.  He’s torn between moving his hips to get her going again and looking into the sound like a true hunter should.

“Probably just… a… gust of wind, right?” Lizzy tries to excuse, not wanting to leave what they’re doing to investigate a noise that could be nothing.  She pulls away her hand.

“I’m willing to buy it if you are,” Dean tells her quickly, eyes hopeful as they plead for her to keep going.

“Ok,” Lizzy nods and leans in for another kiss, her mouth ready to eat him alive with sheer desire.  Falling right back into their former fun, soon Lizzy is bouncing on top of her birthday boy, making both breath heavily, moan loudly.

Lizzy lets her lips seek his neck and Dean tilts his head back, resting it on the bed behind him.  “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Just crazy enough right?” she counters against his skin.

“You’re perfectly, awesomely crazy you nasty little slut,” he huffs out, eyes opening just in time to catch the thing staring at them from the door way.  He tenses up with fear.  “Shit!”

“Mm, yes,” Lizzy moans, taking his signals the wrong way.  “Come for me, Hot Shot.”

“No!  Shit!” he yells aloud and tries to point out the spirit headed their way but can’t.  “L!  Behind you!”

Lizzy’s head swiftly pick up and turns, catching sight of the spirit as it rushes them.

“Fuck!” she yells in surprise as she takes up the sawed off sitting on the cot next to them.  She aims fast, her arm sharply whipping out behind her and firing.  The ghost dissipates with the rock salt.

“Whoa!” Dean lets out with shock as he watches her lower the gun and snap her focus back onto him, both sets of eyes wide locking in.

“Holy shit!” Lizzy says with more surprise.  “That was…”

“So fucking hot,” Dean answers her, slamming his lips against hers quickly.  “Oh God.  So awesome.”

“Yeah!?” Lizzy questions him with unexpected shock in him.

“Yeah,” he nods furiously.  “We only got one loaded salt round left.  Fuck me fast.”

Pupils blow wide with desire over seeing him like this, Lizzy does just what he asks.  She fucks him as hard as she can, her hand still gripping tightly to the wooden handle of their only weapon. 

“Keep look out,” Dean asks of her, his breathing hard and fast as he watches her closely.  Lizzy lets the pleasure continue to coat her expression as she looks sharply around the room, intent on giving him the fuck he’s asking for.

“Where’d she go?” Lizzy pants out, caught between heightened alarm and building pleasure.  Damn fucking ghosts kill everything for her.

“Don’t know,” Dean moans out, feeling himself getting ready to blow.  “Don’t care.”

“There’s the skank,” Lizzy grins evilly, taking aim while still bouncing atop her man.  “I’ll teach you to interrupt my man’s birthday sex, you bitch.”

Dean looks over in time to catch her shooting the spirit once more.  It was too much for him.  His nearly naked, perfect wife riding him, wearing his shirt, strapping him down and fucking him… all the while staving off the creatures of the night. 

“Fuck!” Dean shouts out loudly, coming harder than he can remember ever doing.  Lizzy rises and falls on him a few more time as he rides out the moment, her eyes still keeping a sharp look out as she reaches into his green jacket’s chest pocket for a few more salt rounds. 

Trying to catch his breath, Dean lays back on the cot bonelessly.  He opens his eyes when he hears the sound of shells popping and clattering to the floor.  Watching her load the gun as she sits atop him, his dick still deep inside her, he’s found himself in complete awe of her.  She’s certifiable, he knows it now.  But she’s also amazing. 

Aiming around the room, Lizzy lifts herself off of her husband, his voice humming as she releases him, and jumps down from the cot. 

Quickly Lizzy sheds the sex kitten act and transforms right back into the alert, intense, and highly talented hunter she also is. 

"Fucking amazing," Dean says almost to himself as Lizzy steals the tall container of salt from his jacket pocket. She flips the top off and peeks inside, happy to see that there's enough still in there. She quickly makes a circle around the cot, keeping both of them safe from harm. Once done she sighs with relief.

"Ok," she calmly announces. "We're good."

"I'm  _so_  good right now," Dean grins wide and looks over at her from his strapped down place.

"Unreal," she shakes her head disbelieving after a ghost had managed to find them during their session. "Can't even give my husband a proper, dirty fuck for his birthday without the supernatural world trying to take a shit all over it." She places the salt and gun on the bed and starts to unbuckle the restraints around his wrists one at a time. "Sorry baby."

"For what!?" Dean asks with wide eyes.

"For getting interrupted," she says with obviousness. "For thinking that being spontaneous would be a good idea with the lives we live. How wrong I was?"

"Fuck that," Dean tells her she is incorrect as she frees his left arm. He immediately grabs her forearm to make her pause and listen to him. She looks to him. "That was awesome."

"Really?" Lizzy question him and his sanity level.

"Lizzy, I swear you're completely blind to yourself," he tells her as he pulls her arm, making her climb back up on the cot and onto him. She sits atop him once more and he brings his left hand to her cheek. "Do you have any idea how fucking bad ass you are? How insanely hot you are?"

"You've lost it," he tells him with certainty.

"You just tore a ghost a new one… twice… while fucking my brains out," he explains his stance. "Come on! You're God damn Wonder Woman! First you get me outta my birthday funk. Then you strap me down to a dirty asylum bed, you start fucking touching yourself, my God! You just might have made one of my fantasies come true and I didn't even know this was a fantasy of mine until right now! That was the most intense, most fucking crazy thing I've ever done." He smiles a bit at this. "And to think that I had thought that being thirty was going to be the beginning of a boring life and me having to grow up."

"Hey, stick with me kid," she smirks right back. "I'm way younger than you. I'll keep you young with my immaturity."

"Awesome," Dean huffs a laugh and pulls her to him, leaving a burning kiss on her lips.

They both hear the shuffling off to the side and without looking, Lizzy grabs her shotgun in one hand. She turns and aims once more.

"Back off, bitch," she says with a smile as she pulls the trigger, the ghost disappearing. "It's my man's birthday."

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment. I always appreciate it and I'll always respond.


End file.
